Wanna Shout, The Sampler
by Natasha Shaitanova
Summary: This is a compilation of the best songfics out of You Make Me Wanna Shout. Humor and political commentary abound. Suggestions welcome, as usual! Current picks: We are the Champions, Barbie Guy, I just called to say I love you, Take it off. All revamped.
1. We Are The Champions

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We Are the Champions 

By Natasha Shaitanova

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**Disclaimer**: I don't own Queen lyrics and I don't own _Harry Potter_. 

A/N: Alright, this is a compilation of the best samples from "You Make Me Wanna Shout" - the original. I realize that many of the songfics in the original are not really that good anymore (or, at least, in retrospect I have been able to filter the successful ones from the sunken ships.)

**New readers**: feel free to check out the original for more variety.

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Tom, the bartender of the Leaky Cauldron, was man with a sharp eye for business and opportunity. His advertisement campaign stopped just short of "Harry Potter Dines Here" (well, usually) and he never tired of pointing out over poker night that the Golden Trio were indeed his regulars. 

This particular Friday night, Tom was already waiting in trepidation for the trio to come in, sure it would pull business faster as soon as they arrived. He wiped the bar glasses feverishly, feeling the same amount of excitement as one would attribute to an obsessed fangirl.

Of course, The Savior never failed to meet expectations and marched in at eight o'clock on the dot, Sir Weasley and Lady Granger in tow.

After a rambunctious dinner (courtesy of Ron, who deemed it necessary to treat every meal as a heated affair), the trio lingered for a few drinks. Harry seemed particularly eager to dull the pain that night—or perhaps he was proving his tolerance to Firewhiskey to his friends and, frankly, failing miserably at that…

Tom was just considering approaching the company and suggesting that a shot-glass pyramid was not the best idea, when the far from dulcet strains of Harry's voice resounded above the mumblings of the other occupants.

_I've paid my dues -  
Time after time -  
I've done my sentence  
But committed no crime -  
And bad mistakes  
I've made a few  
I've had my share of sand kicked in my face -  
But I've come through_

He tried to raise his voice intp a shrill falsetto, but it cracked spectacularly as he hiccupped and raised his empty glass to compensate.

Hermione seemed to giggle at her friend a little, but the rosy blush that spread across her cheeks was undoubtedly _not_ from any perceived embarrassment. Stifling a hiccup she grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him to his feet, leading them into the chorus.

Ron, looking blearily at the pair, struggled to stand, tipping his chair on its back in the process. Perhaps Ron was doomed with unlucky genetics or perhaps someone above was having a great laugh, but his drunken wavering inevitably resulting in the shot pyramid adding to the background dynamics of the performance.

_We are the champions - my friends  
And we'll keep on fighting - till the end -  
We are the champions -  
We are the champions  
No time for losers  
'Cause we are the champions - of the world -_

Tom, who was standing in the middle of the bar (or was it restaurant?), opened and closed his mouth like a fish while groping around desperately for a chair. Finding one, he dragged it to himself and plopped down heavily. This gave a whole new meaning to attracting business. Maybe he could make flyers...?

A couple of the occupants had left during the first strains of singing, but it seemed that they had taken care to contribute to Tom's advertisement campaign and dropped a word or a whole Oh-My-Fuckin-Gawd-The-Chosen-One-Is-Singing-In-The-Leaky-Cauldron rant about the matter.

Whichever the case, people started to trickle in from Diagon Alley, the muggle street, the Floo network, and various unmentionable locations as the off-key warblers reached the next stanza.

Ron had taken that moment to attempt to climb the table they were formerly occupying and in the process slid dangerously among the remnants of the shot glasses. Heedless, he stood up and wobbled dangerously before pulling Hermione up after him. Unwilling to leave the verse unsung due to their antics, Harry continued solo.

_I've taken my bows  
And my curtain calls -  
You brought me fame and fortune and everything that goes with it  
-  
I thank you all –_

He was cut off as Ron grabbed his neck and tried to so yank him up on the table. Barely avoiding his looming fate of death by drunken chocking, Harry focused on complying quickly and scampering on top of the table as Hermione filled in for him in a screeching soprano.

_But it's been no bed of roses  
No pleasure cruise -  
I consider it a challenge before the whole human race -  
And I ain't gonna lose –_

The Trio teetered cautiously on top of the rickety table, but managed to stay standing as they ignored the growing crowd and prepared to launch into the second chorus. Mostly, the onlookers seemed stupefied, with exception of a few stifled giggles and a good deal of muttered remarks.

Tom was slowly rocking back and forth in his chair, nursing a bottle of ale, staring at the Trio in pure adoration. This must have been the most customers his pub has ever seen gathered at any one time. Perhaps Mr. Potter would discover a new hobby...?

_We are the champions - my friends  
And we'll keep on fighting - till the end -  
We are the champions -  
We are the champions  
No time for losers  
'Cause we are the champions - of the world –_

Harry launched readily into the chorus, with Hermione singing along at a higher (excruciatingly-painful-pop-my-eardrums-now-soprano-high) pitch. Ron, grinning widely and heehawing in between hiccups, threw his arms around his friends and alternated between trying to get the words out and imitating guitar sounds (or an orangutan, no one was too sure).

_We are the champions - my friends  
And we'll keep on fighting - till the end -  
We are the champions -  
We are the champions  
No time for losers  
'Cause we are the champions - of the world - _

And so they were. And so Tom saluted. And so the crowd cheered.

And so Colin Creevey anticipated hundreds of shiny galleons pouring in for the pictures he would be off developing deep into the night.

And so the legs of the table finally gave and spilled the Golden Trio, still giggling, onto the floor of the Leaky Cauldron, where they proceeded to give rise to their new single—crescendo of snores.

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A/N: Ok, I got the idea when I searched through my iTunes but I was also very much reminded of a particular episode on a particular TV Show. Can you guess?

So, **review if you are a closet addict of drunken singing (well, when it's not you, of course...)**

**-NS**


	2. Barbie Guy

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Barbie Guy 

By Natasha Shaitanova

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**Disclaimer **: I don't own Aqua lyrics (although I severely mutilated them here) and I don't own _Harry Potter _(although, I suppose that can be debatable since I'm making use of its characters anyway and reviews can be considered profit……….forget I said that! No suing!)

**Quick A/N:** Ok, people, I hope you have a rather…flexible sense of humor because this chapter is going to be a bit…weirder than usual. And it's Draco again. So, Draco fans…don't rejoice yet—I'm poking fun at him. Yeah, love the character too, blah, blah…but he is a perfect walking parody.

Enjoy!

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Draco scowled as he clung to the wall in front of the double doors leading to the Great Hall and he could swear his knees were not too stable. He glared at his best friend.

"Oh, come on, Draco, mine was worse," Blaise grinned at the pouting blond and stretched his arms out to the sides: red…gold…Lion smack in the middle.

If your spot on the IQ scale somewhat surpasses Goyle's, then perhaps you guessed the issue at hand—three words: party, hungover, dare.

Oh, yes. The Slytherins certainly indulged in dares every now and then (cough, smashingly bloody pissed) and as much as Draco abhorred the upcoming tragedy of his young life, the punishment for flobberworming out would be worse.

And so, with a deep breath, Draco threw open the doors to the Great Hall and marched bravely in…

Who are we kidding, he was trembling from head to toe, barely made it three feet in, and all with good reason…

_I'm a Barbie guy, in the Barbie lie  
Life in plastic, it's fantastic!  
You can brush my hair, undress me everywhere  
Imagination, life is your creation  
Come on Barbie, let's go party!_

Draco Malfoy, Heir To The Largest Non-Corporation Fortune In The World, Son Of The Feared Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, Possible Future Second In Command Of The Dark Lord's Forces, stood for all of Hogwarts to see dressed in a pink, frilly, lacy mini-dress with red pumps and a gorgeous little pink ribbon in his hair.

…And currently his best friend, still in Gryffindor colors, was cackling along with the rest of the houses as he pushed Draco toward their table.

_I'm a Barbie guy, in the Barbie lie  
Life in plastic, it's fantastic!  
you can brush my hair, undress me everywhere  
Imagination, life is your creation_

At the teachers' table, Snape stood petrified as he observed the progress of his two top students across the hall.

Had he been Pope Pius XI, they would have been excommunicated in an instant!

Had he been Joseph Stalin, they would have both been freezing their shriveled, thong-clothed asses off in Siberia!

Had he been Dick Cheney…okay, that's too fearful to imagine.

_I'm a blond bimbo guy, in the fantasy lie  
Dress me up, make it tight, I'm your dolly  
You're my doll, rock'n'roll, feel the glamour in pink,  
kiss me here, touch me there, hanky panky...  
You can touch, you can play, if you say: "I'm always yours"_

Someone from the Hufflepuff table whistled, "_Uh, oooooh, uh!"_

The Ravenclaws seemed to be calculating the arithmetical probability of the Daily Prophet devoting the front page and the centerfold (mmhmmmm) to the uncensored pictures of the soon-to-be-former Heir To The Largest Non-Corporation Fortune In The World, Son Of The Feared Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, Possible Future Second In Command Of The Dark Lord's Forces.

_I'm a Barbie guy, in the Barbie lie  
Life in plastic, it's fantastic!  
You can brush my hair, undress me everywhere  
Imagination, life is your creation_  
_Come on Barbie, let's go party!  
(Ah-ah-ah-yeah)  
Come on Barbie, let's go party!  
(uu-oooh-u)  
Come on Barbie, let's go party!  
(Ah-ah-ah-yeah)  
Come on Barbie, let's go party!  
(uu-oooh-u)_

Draco's face burned with humiliation as he tried to sit at his usual spot (tried meaning that he could in no way do so without hiking up his leg over the bench and in so doing flashing the entire hall full of his avid observers.)

He and Blaise barely managed the Herculean feat by covering each other in turn, despite Pansy and Millicent trying their best to thwart their efforts with some rather impressive crane-bird imitations.

_Make me walk, make me talk, do whatever you please  
I can act like a star, I can beg on my knees  
Come jump in, bimbo friend, let us do it again,  
Hit the town, fool around, let's go party  
You can touch, you can play, if you say: "I'm always yours"  
You can touch, you can play, if you say: "I'm always yours"_

Harry nudged Ron, who nudged Hermione, who nudged Ginny, who nudged Dean, who nudged Seamus, who nudged Neville…regardless, no one at the Gryffindor table seemed capable of speech.

Finally, Hermione spoke, "Perhaps he is proclaiming his intention to run for office of the local GSA branch?"

_Come on Barbie, let's go party!  
(Ah-ah-ah-yeah)  
Come on Barbie, let's go party!  
(uu-oooh-u)  
Come on Barbie, let's go party!  
(Ah-ah-ah-yeah)  
Come on Barbie, let's go party!  
(uu-oooh-u)_

Draco felt like he wanted to cry. Or stab to death something very cute and furry. Or perhaps abandon all pureblood pretenses and simply jam his fist down Blaise's throat.

The best friend in question was wolfing down kippers with the oblivious attitude of an exemplary Weasley, frustrating the fuming Malfoy beyond belief. Draco prepared to jam his "friend" in the ribs just to make him choke, only to find himself staring at his own glittery, magenta nails.

Dear Merde…they had gone all out. Draco could swear there was pink eyeshadow weighing down his eyelids and how could he forget the red lipstick he had swiped from Pansy's purse that morning…

_I'm a Barbie guy, in the Barbie lie  
Life in plastic, it's fantastic!  
You can brush my hair, undress me everywhere  
Imagination, life is your creation  
_  
Draco slammed his head twice on the table, only to find himself blinded as he came up for air.

Lights, Camera, Action!!!

Draco jumped up from his seat and vaulted over the Slytherin table (Malfoy Code, Article No. 19853, Section d. _Nothing may be allowed to interfere with revenge…_Apparently, that included the modesty of not showing pretty red bikinis from PlayWitch to one's classmates.)

Colin Creevey ran for his life as the pink blur of lace and ribbons hurled itself after him, surprisingly agile given the four-inch heels.

_Oh, I'm having so much fun!  
Well, we're just getting started!_

Blaise grinned and grabbed Colin's abandoned camera.

_Oh I love you Blaise! ...Die, you bloody, treacherous, sadistic, drunken, whore-y, masochistic, fucking insane, infuriating excuse for a friend, Die asshole!_

The next morning, the Ravenclaws smirked smugly as they were proven quite right…with the additional bonus of the last few lines of the article declaring that Lucius Malfoy had dropped pretenses and succumbed to the wonders of the muggle drug Prozac.

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A/N: I warned you it was insane. Don't worry, nothing that happens is permanent.

For those who don't know, the GSA is the Gay-Straight Alliance.

**Review because cross-dressing never gets old and you know it.**

Shaity out.


	3. I Just Called To Say I Love You

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I Just Called to Say I Love You 

By Natasha Shaitanova

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**Disclaimer**: I don't own Stevie Wonder lyrics and I don't own _Harry Potter. _I _do_ own the insanity you are currently indulging in. Enjoy.

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"Harry! This is IT! I've had it," Ron stormed into the Gryffindor common room, dragging him friend along with him by the front of his robes, "If that _git_ gives us another T, I am going to march up to his desk and pour my 'abysmally horrid' potion on top of his slimy head!"

"Ron, you know we kind of screwed it up again…"

"It is the principle of it, Harry! We must stand up for our rights!"

Harry slumped into his favorite armchair and raised his eyes to the ceiling, "What rights, Ron? We have no rights in that class. We are rightless. We are denied rights. We are prohibited by disciplinary normalization from exercising, recognizing, and/or promoting the discovering of a way to establish our rights…"

Ron paused in his pacing and took his hands out of his hair, taking with them small tufts of red, "Harry…that was scary. If you channel Hermione, I swear I will run away screaming and abandon you to her clutches."

"Oh shut up," Harry twisted in his chair until his head hung upside down, "If you want to get back at Snape that much, why don't you prank him?"

Ron opened his mouth to reply, but quickly shut it and tilted his chin in thought. He tapped his fingers on his forehead and spoke up, "You think we could pull it off without being castrated and Avada Kedavra-ed?"

"Who said _we?_"

"Harry!" Ron gaped in shock, "We are partners in crime! We always have been!"

"So was Hermione, why don't you ask her?" Harry pointed to the girl studiously ignoring her babbling friends as she focused on some complicated essay or another.

"Uh, no. That would be worse, Harry," Ron went back to hitting his palm against his forehead and soon exclaimed (the method must have been somewhat successful), "I could send him a howler!"

"And, what, declare your grievances publicly?" Harry dangled his head from side to side, feeling the blood rush down to redden his frowning face, "That'll just earn you a couple of Crucios before the Avada Kedavra. Or maybe he'll boil you alive in one of his potions."

"Well, what do you suggest, Boy Wonder?"

Harry grinned.

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Saturday morning post arrived on time as usual, but no excited hubbub graced the hall as students received their letters. Instead, the hall was deathly silent as a small red envelope fell into the Potion Master's plate and began to smoke slightly. Even McGonagall held her breath and scooted back in her chair as she watched.

Snape stood up, fully intending to take the impudent arrival outside and incinerate it, but the Howler snapped out of his hands as soon as he touched it and formed into the shape of a smiling mouth.

_No New Years Day to celebrate,  
No chocolate covered candy hearts to give away,  
No first of spring, no song to sing,  
In fact, here's just another ordinary day. _

Silky strains of music filled the hall as Snape stared in horror at the singing envelope. A few Muggleborn students began sniggering in recognition of the song, but it would not be long until the rest of the school caught up.

_No April rain, no flowers' bloom,  
No wedding Saturday within the month of June.  
But what it is is something true  
Made up of these three words that I must say to you._

Furious, Snape snapped out of his shock-induced trance, and shot an _Incendio _at the floating paper mouth. He cursed and ducked as the spell merely rebounded on him.

Gritting his teeth and taking a swipe at the Howler, he could not stop the red blotches appearing on his cheeks as the chorus was warbled for all of England to hear.

_I just called to say I love you;  
I just called to say how much I care;  
I just called to say I love you,  
And I mean it from the bottom of my heart. _

Harry, who had chocked on his pumpkin juice as he stared at the effect the Howler seemed to be having on their teacher, glanced across the table at Ron.

The redhead seemed to have sunk so low in his seat, his head was barely visible above the goblets and plates. His face was quickly turning an ugly puce and his eyes bulged and watered as his body shook in burst of tremors.

Harry blinked, "You alright there, mate?"

Ron's eyes seemed to go in and out of focus as he quietly answered, "Hee-hee-heeeee…"

And Harry left it at that.

_No summer's high, no warm July,  
No harvest moon to light one tender August night,  
No autumn breeze, no falling leaves,  
Not even time for birds to fly to southern skies_

Snape glared at the school body as bursts of giggles sprang up with growing rapidity and volume, causing the envelope to strain to yelp out the lyrics above the noise (with it succeeded at doing quite admirably).

The last straw came as Dumbledore began humming merrily to the tune, eye twinkle turned up all the way to Level 5 tm, otherwise known as Stare-And-Be-Blinded-As-I-Emulate-Hiroshima-And-Nagasaki.

_No Libra sun, no Hallowe'en,  
No giving thanks for all the Christmas joy you bring,  
But what it is, tho' old, so new,  
To fill your heart like no three words could ever do. _

Baring his teeth savagely, Snape considered marching over to the Gryffindor table and simply strangling the two infidels with his bare hands…or maybe turning them into rats and giving them to Filch…or perhaps portkeying them to Guantanamo Bay…

But no, he could hear the crescendo of humming, giggles, and envelope-warbling rise to an ear-splitting level and with reddened cheeks and ears, he turned tail and swept out of the hall, his long black robes strangely lacking their usual flair.

He swore he heard Dumbledore cackling cheerfully as the Howler bobbled through the air after him with its parting words.

_I just called to say I love you;  
I just called to say how much I care;  
I just called to say I love you,  
And I mean it from the bottom of my heart. _

And so Ron fainted from deoxidation.

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A/N: Yeah…well it was about time I gave Snape a chappie. There will probably be a more flattering one, but this idea definitely bit me in the censored and refused to let go.

**Review because somewhere deep down you honestly feel sorry for our affection-deprived pseudo-vampire.**

-Shaity out.


	4. Take it Off

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Take It Off

By Natasha Shaitanova

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**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Donnas lyrics and I don't own _Harry Potter_. Ya, Ya old news.**

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Ginny slouched behind the bar counter at Three Broomsticks and sipped leisurely on her FireTequila. She was never much of a whiskey person on a Friday night—a good bottle of Jack Daniels was welcomed on a brooding night by the fire, but going out definitely required something spicier.

She leaned forward against the counter and winked at the cute bartender, securing a free refill at moment's notice. She knocked back a gulp or two, before a strong, snow-white (oops sorry, that doesn't sound quite masculine enough…) hand took her wrist and brought it back down to the counter.

Draco Malfoy smirked (i.e. twisted his mouth crookedly to the side in imitation of movie actors who actually pull it off), "Drowning the sorrows of a slow pace this night, Weaslette?"

Ginny ignored the occupational jibe as she took in the silky, black shirt and fitting grey trousers. Had the ensemble not succeeded in raising the temperature a few dozen degrees around the bar, she would have commented on how it would have fit perfectly at a gay club. Nevertheless, such thoughts slinked away quietly in the tequila-induced haze.

_I'm on my second drink  
But I've had a few before...  
I'm tryin' hard to think  
And I think that I want you on the floor  
Uh huh, yeah on the floor!  
_

"Tequila, Weslette?" Draco nodded to the drink whilst loudly ordering a whiskey on the rocks, "Are you testing fate?"

Ginny tried to cock her head to the side, but only managed to wobble it slightly. "What are you on about Malfoy?"

"Don't tell me you don't have a Tequila Story, Weasley…" Draco glanced dubiously at the redhead, not-so-surreptitiously taking in the slipping black tank top and red bra-straps.

"No…" Ginny leaned toward her companion, "You wanna tell me a bedtime tequila story, Malfoy?"

_Go on and take it off_

_Take it off!  
You gotta shake it off baby, for me  
C'mon and break me off  
Break me off!  
'Cause I get what I want and I like what I see_

Ginny followed Malfoy's stare and blatantly adjusted her bra straps, flicking her hair off her bare shoulders as she did so. Draco carefully swallowed. His Malfoy Pride ™ would not allow a nosebleed.

"Weaslette…" Draco paused before bravely continuing, "Is that the Victoria's Secret brand?"

"Naturally," Ginny swallowed the rest of her green, smoking tequila, "It's the witch's edition—pure lace but charmed like a WonderBra. Wanna see it?"

"Well, actually," Draco just knew the conversation was not going to end well, "Mother's Day is approaching and I was wondering if there were any more of that design left…"

Ginny blinked, "Malfoy, I swear to Potterism and any other major religion, if you are confessing to the Oedipus complex…"

"NO!"

_Need your love 1,2,3  
Stop starin' at my D cup  
Don't waste time, just give it to me  
C'mon baby, just feel me up  
C'mon, just give it up  
_

"I am just killing two screwts with one curse, Weaslette," Draco allowed the whiskey to burn his throat in response to the accusation, "Dammit, when I die and go to hell, I will seek out Freud and kill him all over again."

Ginny tried to register the meaning of the words as her brain cells put on sombreros and sang _La Cucaracha_, "What makes you think Freud is in hell?"

"The man was sex-obsessed, closet Oscar Wilde," Draco announced with the air of scholarly superiority, "There's no doubt about it."

_Go on and take it off  
Take it off!  
You gotta shake it off baby, for me  
C'mon and break me off  
Break me off!  
'Cause I get what I want and I like what I see  
_

Ginny hummed along with her mental fiesta before jumping off her stool, a touch wobbly as the stilettos strove to support her figure (yes, Pam Anderson was her hero and role model), "Let's cut straight to base 2, why don't we?"

"Do refrain from American colloquialisms, Weasley," Draco set down his empty tumbler and stood up, "Trying to stomach thoughts of cowboys, Michael Jackson, Gitmo, and Schwarzenegger all at once after a glass of whiskey may prove difficult."

"Well, aren't you wearing a Michael Jackson shirt anyhow, Malfoy?" Ginny tugged clumsily at the soft material, causing several buttons to pop off in the process.

"Weasley, for the last time, I am not a pedophile and I am _not_ in love with my mother!"

Draco gulped as a hush fell over the bar and every occupant skewered him with glares (very Silence of the Lambs, all in all).

_Forget the application...  
You're the right guy for the task  
Let me take you on vacation  
Just do it, you don't have to ask!  
_

"Come on, _Draaayco_," Ginny whined and linked her arm with Malfoy's, "They just don't appreciate your creativity. Let's go—my brothers gave me this new product and I can't wait to try it out. See, it—"

Ginny never got around to explaining what exactly the product did as Draco clamped a hand over her mouth and dragged the two of them out of the bar. Outside, he wasted no time in grabbing a passerby's scarf, almost choking the poor third year as he pulled it off his neck.

He proceeded to shove the scared (trembling-like-Trelawney-about-to-wet-his-pants) student back into the crowd and wiped his hand exaggeratedly on the garment.

"Merlin, Weaslette, did you dump the whole bottle of Luci's Lucious Lip Potion on your mouth?" he huffed, "I only use three and a half drops."

Ginny ignored the off-beat comment, "We left my coat inside. I'm freezing!"

"You wouldn't be if you wore a bit more than five inches of clothing," even as Draco said this, he couldn't help but sound approving and appreciate the fact.

_Go on and take it off_

_Take it off!  
You gotta shake it off baby, for me  
C'mon and break me off  
Break me off!  
'Cause I get what I want and I like what I see_

"It's convenient," Ginny crossed her arms, "See, _I _don't have to take off _anything_. You, on the other hand…"

"Man thongs are not my style, Weaslette," Draco popped the collar on his jacket and sniffed the air (the effect was ruined as he chocked on the smell of thestral…ahem….fertilizer), "But I suppose I could always swipe one from Blaise, but he's very possessive."

Even Ginny looked thoughtful.

_Take it off  
Take it off!  
Take it off baby, for me  
Take it off  
Take it off!  
Take it off baby, for me._

"Well…" the redhead mused, "Getting Harry's might be easier, if you don't mind red lace."

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**Review because all of you secretly think Tom Felton in a red lacy thong is a _very_ intriguing idea...**

**NS**


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